


The Meaning of Flowers

by livinglittlelie



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: (quite possible wrong bc I googled them), F/M, Fluff, ML Secret Santa, Marichat, Meaning of flowers, Now with a second chapter because I just couldn't leave it alone, but not soon, for mirallura, maybe a third chapter comes along, reveal and adrienette at the notes, this was supposed to be short but you know how I am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-09-11 17:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9000307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livinglittlelie/pseuds/livinglittlelie
Summary: One day, Marinette begins finding flowers at her terrace.For ML Secret Santa Exchange.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time it happened was two days after the Evillustrator. It had been the first time she’d work with Chat Noir as a civilian, and was a bit nervous on how to act around him. She didn’t want him to find out about his identity, after all.

Then Sabrina came barrelling in, making her forget shortly that Chat was supposed to come to protect her, so when he fell from the skies, she was momentarily startled. Then she remembered her plan – to act like a starstruck admirer, the furthest from their teasing relationship when she was transformed into Ladybug, and he seemed to buy the act, turning his flirtations to her.

But as time went by, Marinette began forgetting that she had to hide the companionship and complete trust – laced with a bit of exasperation – she felt around him, so she inevitably ended channelling a bit too much her Ladybug self, more so when action demanded her sole focus.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to catch up with her change or demeanour, or maybe he did, but he didn’t link it with her spotted counterpart. Both were fine for her.

So when, two days later, she found a little bouquet of flowers on the lounge chair of her terrace, she’d been surprised. She picked up the flowers, looking at how the little buds fit beautifully in colour and shape. They were a combination of pinks and whites and bits of red, her favourite colours, and even though this was a simple bouquet, she couldn’t help but think it was one of the most beautiful ones she’d ever seen.

But… what was doing that bouquet in there?

“Oh, interesting choice of flowers,” Tikki said from above her shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“It seems that the one that made the bouquet seemed to know a bit about the meaning of flowers.”

“The meaning of flowers? Like roses meaning love and stuff?”

Tikki nodded. “Every flower holds a meaning, from its species, to their colour and distribution in a bouquet. In the Renaissance, it was very common to send messages with flowers. It was pretty funny to discover all the feelings they tried to convey.”

Marinette hummed. She brought the flowers to her room, looking pensive at the tiny blossoms. She looked around for a vase, and put the flowers inside, rearranging the flowers so they looked perfect.

“And what do they mean, Tikki?”

She floated around the bouquet, and her tiny hands raised a white tiny bell-shaped bud. “This is a white Heather. It symbolizes protection. And these-”she flew to touch a flower of one densely packed floret. The movement made a sweet scent come from them. “- are Hyacinth. By their colour they mean playful and loveliness.”

Marinette looked at the arrange of flowers. So protection, playfulness and loveliness? What the hell did that mean?

Tikki noticed her lost expression, and giggled. “Basically, what the bouquet is trying to express is that the person who made the bouquet thinks you’re lovely and playful, and that they would like to protect you. Well, at least that was what it would mean, if someone had given it to you.”

“What I don’t get is, why were those flowers in my terrace? It’s not like people can go leaping from the rooftops like it’s nobody’s business, is it? Well, unless they have a miraculous, I guess.”

“Maybe Ladybug gave them to you,” Tikki teased.

Marinette rolled her eyes, a fond smile on her face. At that moment, a white Hyacinth fell from its floret, landing softly on the table. She brought it to her nose and inhaled deeply, closing her eyes at the sweet scent.

Well, the flowers were beautiful and smelt nice. She wasn’t going to complain.

* * *

The second time that happened had been when Chat was on his solo patrol. She’d forgotten to water her plants that evening, and was just climbing up to her terrace, with a sprinkler when he saw him, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

She stepped out, frowning slightly, when she remembered that he had patrol on this side of the city that night. Instantly relieved, she turned to her plants, trying to make as little sound as possible to avoid catching his attention, but not a minute after, she heard the clicking of his boots on the banister.

“Good evening, Princess. Fancy meeting you here.”

She turned around, placing the sprinkler to her feet. “Oh, Chat Noir. What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry. I was just patrolling around, saw you here and decided to drop by. After all, it is my duty as your faithful knight to protect you of all deeds.”

He bowed and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. She quickly tugged her hand out, but something in what he’d said had caught her attention. What was it…?

“Ah, such dedication to your work. I feel safer already,” she said dramatically, but her voice betrayed her playfulness. Chat’s face brightened up anyway, so that was what counted, right? He deserved it, after all. “Paris is lucky to have you.”

Oh god, she could see his ego skyrocketing now. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea, after all.

“Why thank you, Princess. It is my honour. Whenever you’re in distress, this cat will make sure to aid you in any way. I’ll protect you with my nine lives.”

She turned around so he didn’t see her rolling her eyes, and looked back at him. “Would you like to have anything? Cookies, perhaps?”

Oh, his eyes _sparkled_ when those words came from her mouth. Although he tried to turn her offer down, she could see his eyes, his big, cat-like eyes, begging for the taste of her cookies. Then those eyes turned into puppy-like, and it was so much she could do to stop herself from swooning at the cuteness.

Damn puppy eyes.

“Wait here, I’ll come back with the cookies.”

“But Marinette-”

“Just wait here!” she frowned at him playfully, and she climbed down to her room to pick up some.

Tikki observed her with wide eyes as she placed some cookies on a plate and climbed up again, closing the hatch behind her. She threw a look down, making sure Tikki was out of sight, then walked forward to meet Chat. He had an unreadable expression on his face, cheerful but not quite. Content, she decided. He looked content.

She handed him the plate of cookies and talked with him while he ate. He didn’t stop cracking up jokes between his flirtations, and Marinette found herself laughing at them. Time flew without them noticing, and when she checked her phone, it was almost midnight.

Chat, upon noticing how late it was, bid her goodbye with a flourish and leaped to the void, his body getting out of sight at an amazing speed. Marinette stared fondly at him until she couldn’t see him anymore, picking the plate afterwards and returning to her room. It had been unexpected, but she’d enjoyed it nonetheless.

Then, in the morning, she found another bouquet of flowers at her terrace. She carefully picked it up, tracing with her fingers the soft surface of the delicate-looking pink petals. If possible, that bouquet was prettier than the other one.

Tikki sat on her shoulder, looking at the flowers. “Well, I guess we know where those flowers were from.”

“What do you mean?”

She floated around the flowers, caressing the petals of one of the bigger flowers. “Pink carnation. It expresses gratitude.” She then hit playfully the stigma of the other flowers, the pollen staining her little hands in orange. “And Amaryllis. It stands for splendid beauty.”

Wait… didn’t that sound like…?

Tikki continued. “Now that we know who gave these to you, we can assume that the full meaning of this bouquet is ‘Thank you, Princess’.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and looked at the flowers again. Chat Noir had brought her flowers? Why, For giving him cookies? Now that she thought about it, this was _so_ like him. But why didn’t he give them in person?

No matter how many questions she asked, she wouldn’t know the answers until she asked him directly. Shaking her head, she smiled to Tikki.

“Let’s put them with the others, shall we? We don’t want them to whither too soon.”

“Will you use them as inspiration for your designs, like the last ones?”

She buried her nose on the flowers and breathed in. They smelled really sweet. “… we’ll see. They’re beautiful, aren’t they? It’d be a shame otherwise.”

She brought them to her room and put them in the vase where she had put the other ones. She threw a fond look at the horizon. She’d had a great time With Chat Noir the night before; it’d felt refreshing to talk with him without the pressure that came with being Ladybug. Ladybug had to stay professional, but Marinette could allow herself to be loose and be friends with him, to get to know him better.

She hoped her _chaton_ would visit soon.

* * *

It was five in the morning, but that didn’t stop Chat Noir from vaulting over the rooftops. He was looking around, trying to find a specific place he’d visited just twice. Just as he spotted it, he let his body fall to the floor, the wind whipping his hair from his face, and his stomach clenching instinctively from the drop.

The feeling of falling was one of the things that most allured him into being Chat Noir.

Once his feet touched the ground, he bended his knees to absorb the impact. Standing up, he took a deep breath and released his transformation, picking up the kwami coming out of his ring.

“I hope this is the last time you use me as your personal taxi, kiddo. Miraculous are not meant to be used this way.”

“I know, I know! This is the last time, I promise. You’ll have your wheel of Camembert too.”

“You said that the last two times,” he grumbled, “yet when that pig-tailed girl is concerned, all your promises fall on deaf ears. Why do I always get the smitten kittens?”

“Y-you know it’s not like that with her. And was that a pun?”

Plagg just rolled his eyes. “You’ve been making googly eyes at her since ‘The Umbrella Incident’. You’re bringing her flowers every time you bump into her in the job, and you literally see her at school every day!”

He scoffed. “Don’t call it like that, Marinette became my friend because of it, and you know it’s not like that. Moreover, _Adrien_ isn’t bringing her flowers, _Chat_ is.”

The tiny kwami crossed his arms and huffed. His charge was ridiculous sometimes. “Yeah, because Chat and Adrien aren’t _the same person._ Adrien, you have to admit it, at least. I mean, you’re corny enough to think of their meaning when picking them. Who does that in the 21th century?”

“Me.” he shrugged. He didn’t see why it was that big of a deal.

Before he could answer, he grabbed Plagg from where he was floating and hid him on the inside pocket of his shirt. The poor kwami squawked, out of breath.

Adrien stepped out of the alley, ignoring Plagg’s muffled protests. The streets were empty, and most of the shops were closed. He heard a metallic sound from his left, and he spotted the shop he was looking for all along. He felt the corners of his lips tugging up as he drew closer to the shop.

A man in his mid-fifties looked up then, and smiled at the boy. “Ah, good morning, boy. It’s nice seeing you again.”

“Good morning, sir.”

“You’ve come to pick some flowers again?” Adrien nodded. “Well, let me finish with this and I’ll help you.”

“Do you need a hand?”

He shook his head with a chuckle. “Nonsense. I’ve opened this shop on my own since I was twenty, I’m still too young to be needing help. Why don’t you go looking while I finish, boy? I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Of course!”

The man went inside the shop again, while Adrien stayed out, looking down at the vibrant flowers in front of him. All of them looked fresh and smelt wonderful, but Adrien had already in his mind what he wanted.

He spotted the tiny bulbous flowers first, their white rounded petals glistening with the morning light. He grabbed two florets, then looked for the other ones. The sweatpeas were easy to find, with their big petals of dark pink and purple, and he grabbed some of them to give colour to the bouquet. And then, for the final touch, he grabbed one single daffodil, the star-shaped white flower being the centre of the bouquet. He touched the delicate flowers with his fingers, fixing the position of the flowers.

“Ah, I see you’ve already finished, boy.”

He looked up at the florist, who was looking back at him with a soft smile. He brought the bouquet to him, and fished for his wallet.

“Hmm, Lily of the Valley, Sweetpeas and a single Daffodil. A curious choice, full of meaning. Is this all?”

Lilly of the Valley, which means sweetness and purity of heart, for Marinette is the sweetest girl he’s ever met. Sweetpea, for shyness, and a single Daffodil for uncertainty and hope, as he doesn’t understand why she is so shy with Adrien when she can be so witty with Chat, but he hoped she started opening up to him. That was everything he wanted to convey on the bouquet.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Don’t you want to put some chrysanthemums, maybe a pink rose?” the man teased. Adrien’s eyes widened, and his cheeks got a beautiful rosy colour as he shook his hands in reply.

“N-no! no! It’s not like that. We’re friends, that’s all.”

Honestly, what was it with people today?

The man chuckled, throwing at him a knowing look. He then proceeded to prepare the bouquet carefully, listening to Adrien’s corrections, and presented it to him once he finished.

“How does it look?”

“Perfect!” he picked up the bouquet.

“I hope the girl understands what you’re trying to say with those flowers, son.”

Smiling down to the flowers, he answered, “I hope so too.”

* * *

After what happened with the Gamer, Marinette was already expecting the flowers. She didn’t like that Chat spent so much money on buying flowers for her, but she’d grown to enjoy the unexpected presents she got every time they met.

Last time they’d seen each other it had been in the middle of the battle. The Gamer had been following her, she had been unable to escape, to transform… Then he came, ready to save her again.

The feeling of his arms around her while he carried her to safety had been so raw, so unlike anything she’d ever felt before. His heart beat like crazy against her chest, his hands cradled her body like she was a fragile doll, and she had never felt so _treasured_ in all her life. It didn’t matter they’d been at the exact same position multiple times, but that had been Ladybug, not Marinette, and that somehow changed it all.

She couldn’t help but cling to him for dear life. Her body asked for things she couldn’t comprehend, to stay just like this for as long as they both could, felling him alive and well against her chest. And god, wasn’t it difficult to let him go, although she knew she would be meeting him again in the fight.

Those resurfacing feelings were way too confusing, and Marinette decided to put them aside for now. Some would say she was running away from them (and they would be correct), but she had more important things to focus on. Saving Paris was way more important than the fact that every time she thought of Chat’s silly smile her heart skipped a beat just to increase its speed-

Goddamnit, stop.

She picked up the flowers and brought them directly to her room, ignoring Tikki’s curious glances (she’d already pestered Marinette enough to start facing her feelings, and she was a bit annoyed with her). Surprisingly, that bouquet wasn’t made of pink and white flowers like usual, but of bright yellows and soft whites that reminded her of the warmth of the summer.

She put the flowers on the vase, as usual, and breathed in their smell, as always. A soft smile tugged at her lips at the sweet aroma, and hundreds of designs danced against her closed eyelids.

Then Tikki began giggling on her shoulder.

Marinette’s eyes snapped open and looked down at the kwami, confused. Tikki had her hands covering her mouth, and was basically bouncing where she was sitting. Her gaze was fixed on the flowers, and she could hear the squeals she was trying with all her might to cover. You would think that after receiving so many flowers she would’ve gotten used to it.

“What? What’s wrong with the flowers?” she asked finally, curiosity gnawing on her.

She couldn’t supress the squeal that came out of her lips that time. “Nothing! This is far from wrong!”

“Then, are you going to tell me what they mean?”

Tikki giggled. She looked at Marinette and giggled again, twirling and dancing in the air. She floated around, diving in the flowers and coming out again in the middle of the sea of white and yellow petals. She picked one of them, and showed it to Marinette.

“This is a white gardenia. It means purity and sweetness, they tell the receiver that they are lovely. Then, we have yellow chrysanthemum, which stands for secret admirer. Marinette! Chat Noir likes you!”

She stared at the flowers, her mind processing Tikki’s words. Chat thought she was lovely? Chat liked her? Marinette, not Ladybug? Wh… what?

Tikki laughed as she saw Marinette blushing in a bright red, her eyes widened and hazy, and looking at the horizon. She flew from her spot on the flowers and touched her nose, getting the girl’s attention. Said girl spluttered and her eyes widened some more, and she drew her hands up to cover her burning face.

“Isn’t it great, Marinette? Chat Noir likes you for who you are, not because you’re Ladybug!”

Marinette became a tight ball on the floor and squeaked in response. Tikki landed on her head, petting the loose threads of her pigtails. Who would’ve thought that this Chat Noir would be a romantic?

The cat and the ladybug were dancing around each other without any of them knowing, and Tikki couldn’t help but think of all their predecessors. All of them were shielded by their identities, and by the end, every one of them had left them behind for something way greater than them. Love had been one of them.

And now that she saw Marinette, so innocent and with so many years before her, discovering what real love was for the first time, she felt warm inside. She felt so honoured, so blessed of watching her grow…

Tikki smiled secretively to the skies, thanking for her life alongside Marinette.

* * *

The next time she bumped into Chat again, she was in her room. It was a beautiful evening, and the light of the twilight came through the windows when she noticed movement outside. Raising her eyes to the window, she spotted something black moving out of the way, and she stood up quickly. Climbing up the stairs to her bed as fast as she could, she opened the hatch to her terrace and jumped up, trying to get a glimpse of him.

And there he was, jaw tense, hands gripped on his staff, and quickly getting away.

“Chat!” she called for him without thinking, and he stopped.

His shoulders were visibly stiff, and he didn’t turn around immediately, worrying her to no avail. She was seriously thinking he’d turn tail and go, but he turned around instead, greeting her with a wide grin that didn’t reach his eyes. He extended his baton and jumped to her terrace, bowing dramatically, in his face the perfect mask of cheerfulness.

Marinette hated it the second she saw it.

“Princess! Fancy meeting you here. I was just passing by, relishing the beautifulness of the twilight, but I am thrilled you stopped me. That way I can pay you… Marinette?”

It was then when he noticed her stand. She was hugging herself, eyes casted aside and mouth slightly pursed. She flinched when he muttered her name, and when she drew her eyes back to him, he had to stifle a gasp at the sadness he saw in those deep orbs.

“Chat, please, stop. You don’t have to tell me anything, but please, don’t lie to me. Don’t try to make it seem like you’re okay when I can clearly see you’re not.”

Chat felt her words like a blow to his stomach. He looked down, and he could see his hands shaking. He frowned, trying to regain his composure, but he knew it was useless. He ran a hand through his hair, a pained smile on his face.

“You know me too well, Marinette.”

He turned around and put his arms on the banister, looking at the sunset. Then, some seconds later, he could feel her doing the same, standing beside him silently.

“My home is very quiet,” he muttered, his eyes fixed on the horizon, “I should be used to it; I kind of am, if you think about it, but there are some days where I can’t stand it. Everything’s so _quiet_ , so still, that it gives me shivers. It’s numbing and stifling at the same time. I had to get away today, I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

He could feel more than see her head turning to look at him. He continued talking.

“It wasn’t like this before, you know? My home was big, but it was far from being empty. But now… now everything’s different, and I still need to get my head around it. I got out to escape from it, but no matter where I go, it follows me.” He shuddered. Then, he whispered something he didn’t like to admit, even to himself, “I don’t know what to do…”

 He felt her warmth on his side. He looked down, just to see her leaning on his shoulder, eyes closed. Her long lashes were damp, and he hated himself for it.

“Come here,” she said after a while, “whenever you feel like this, please, come here. I won’t pry, I won’t ask you anything you don’t feel comfortable sharing. But please, come to me.” She opened her eyes, and looked directly at him. “I want to help you just as much as you’ve helped me. That’s the least I could do.”

“You… you want me here?” She nodded. “I won’t be my usual self. I won’t be able to joke around or have fun as always. I’ll be angry, upset, or scared, and you’ll suffer for it. And you’ll still want me around?”

“Yes, I will.”

He turned her around and hugged her, burying his head on the crevice of her neck. She then felt the dampness on her shoulder, and buried her hand in his hair, rubbing lightly his scalp. He felt him sigh and relax against her, and she closed her eyes, trying to make him feel he mattered to her.

He left without saying anything, but his eyes were lighter, albeit a bit puffy. And when she woke up, she immediately spotted the flowers lying in front of her. She picked them up, cradling in her hands like no other bouquet he’d given her before. The flowers were a sea of deep purples, shades of cyan and soft pinks, and her heart lurched at the sight.

Tikki observed her silently. “Do you need help to understand them?”

She caressed the pink wavy petals with her fingertips, her mind going around all the books and webpages she’d been reading until then. “Pink carnations, just like the ones I received some months ago. They express gratitude.” She then picked up one purple flower and brought it to her face. “Larkspur. It stands for beautiful spirit. And Hydrangeas,” she whispered, “gratitude for being understood.”

She then looked down at the bouquet, and found that the flowers were tied with a pink ribbon. She tugged at the ends and undid the bow, the soft but sturdy silk slipping through her fingers.

Standing up, she placed the flowers in the vase, and started to get ready for school. Actually in time for once, she took her time getting dressed, looking at herself in the mirror when she finished. She picked up the ribbon and tied it on her head, making it look like a headband. The scent of the flowers had stuck on the cloth, and her lips tugged up slightly.

“Ready to go, Tikki?”

The kwami nodded and flew to her purse. Marinette made her way downstairs, surprising her parents – come on, she wasn’t late _all the time_ – and after having breakfast, she left to school, feeling satisfied that she didn’t need to rush for once.

She bumped into Alya at the entrance of the Collège, and her eyes quickly landed on her hair.

“A change of hairstyle?”

“Yeah. You like it?”

Alya nodded. “Love it! I love your pigtails, but this hairstyle is sweet too.”

“Thanks.” She smiled at her, and both girls made her way to class. It looked surprisingly empty, with only two or three students already sitting on their seats. She brought her bag to her table and began looking for her tablet, when she heard a soft gasp. She looked up, and her eyes met Adrien’s.

“H-hi Adrien,” she said, waving at him. He blinked, then smiled at her, something akin to playfulness in his eyes.

“Good morning, Marinette. Nice headband.”

“Thank you.” She reached for the loose ends on the back of her head, where the knot was hidden, and smiled at them. “It was a gift.”

She looked up again, and was surprised to see the soft blush on Adrien’s cheeks. What was it? was it something she’d said? However, he seemed to recompose quickly and coughed awkwardly.

“I-it looks good on you.”

He turned around before he could thank him, and she looked at him with confusion. What was that?

Alya elbowed her, practically vibrating on her seat. She eyed at the blonde boy, then looked back at Marinette, a hand cupping

her mouth. “What exactly was _that_ , girl?”

Marinette just shrugged at her, but instead of looking at the blonde’s back, just as she’d have done months ago, she looked down again to her ribbons, then outside to the window, a soft sigh coming from her lips. And in the whole morning, her thoughts were filled with glowing green eyes and a devilish smile.

* * *

Christmas was getting near, and Marinette had never felt happier. She felt as though she finally knew what she was doing with her life, instead of trying to survive each day without dying of mortification.

Alya, Nino, Adrien and she had started hanging out together more, and every time they met, it was funnier than the one before. It was also getting easier and easier to talk to Adrien, and she couldn’t help but feel thrilled by it. Finally, she could be a normal person around him, and she was getting to know him better for whom he was, not for what the magazines said about him.

To be honest, he sometimes reminded her of Chat Noir. It wasn’t something very noticeable, just tiny details here and there; like when he would throw in an awful pun casually and then looked at them like the cat who ate the canary, waiting expectantly for their reactions (mostly groaning, maybe one snort here and there). Or maybe it was how his eyes would twinkle when he was about to take a rash decision.

Maybe that had been it, she thought, maybe it had been the memory of him what had made her lose her fidgeting and hesitance around Adrien.

Talking about the cat, he’d make it an habit to visit her after that time. He was all face-splitting smiles and teasing banter, something she was relieved to see back on the catboy’s face. The only time that it had reminded her of that raw hurt was when he’d told her he’d be alone on Christmas eve. Naturally, she’d invited him to come over.

She couldn’t fight against those big, round puppy eyes when he pouted.

It’d been more than a year since she started being Ladybug, and it payed of. She felt calmer, more confident. All the times she’d let her bad temper overcome her had taught her an important lesson; that if she let her bad feelings rule her, everything went awry, so she’d tried her hardest to try to control her temper, and it became easier and easier as time went on.

But of course, Chloe came to test her patience.

She always tried to block her mindless blabbering, knowing that acknowledging her badmouthing whoever her victim was at the moment wouldn’t do her any good. It often worked, to the point that she blocked her without trying, but sometimes, her shrills and hurtful words trespassed her anti-Chloe walls risen in her head, and she had to physically stop herself from jumping at the blonde.

Today’s words had been Chat Noir.

“Look at Ladybug!” Chloe said, shoving her phone to Sabrina, who had to make an effort to stop the device from falling to the floor, “she looks so perfect in every picture, even though they are in the middle of the battle. But look at Chat Noir, sprawled on the floor, being an annoyance as always.”

Marinette’s eyebrow twitched and she rose her eyes to look at both girls. Grave mistake. Chloe snatched her phone from Sabrina’s hands, and began scrolling down with a face of distaste.

“Ugh, so useless. Even when he came to protect me from the painting Akuma, he left as soon as Ladybug wasn’t out of sight. And he wasn’t there when the painting guy came again! What a low excuse of a side-kick, always getting possessed, or unconscious; he can’t even protect one single civilian! And he leaves Ladybug to fix all his mistakes. I’m sure she would be better without him.”

Every word felt like punches in her stomach. She gritted her teeth all the time Chloe had been speaking, but it were her final words that made her bolt from her seat, fists clenched at her sides.

She must had made some noise when she did, it, because Chloe was now looking at her with distaste.

“What do you want, _Marinette Dupain-Cheng?_ ”

She hated how Chloe pronounced her name.

“You take that back,” she said through gritted teeth

“Take _what_ back? You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

“What you said about Chat Noir. It was wrong and totally uncalled for.”

Chloe stood up and cocked her hips, resting a hand on it. She looked at her with a sneer. “Oh, I don’t know. What I said was the truth. Chat Noir is useless as a superhero.”

“No, he’s not! I dare you pull out half of the things he does when he’s battling an Akuma, see how it goes then.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “You’re crazy, right? I’ve got no superpowers, but if I had I’d be way better than him!”

“I seriously doubt that,” Marinette muttered to herself. However, it’d been loud enough for Chloe to hear it.

“What was that!?”

“The truth! Even though you had superpowers, that doesn’t make you a superhero! A superhero has to be kind, responsible, and put the safety of others before themselves! Have you seen how many times he’s thrown himself on the way to protect civilians from Akuma? To protect Ladybug? If she’d received half of the blows he’d covered, there would be no Ladybug anymore. In my opinion, Chat Noir is more of a superhero than Ladybug.”

“You’re crazy! There’s no way in hell that mangy cat is better than Ladybug. She’s the one who comes with the clever plans and purifies the Akumas, the one who fixes everything that’s broken, who brings people back. If there was no Ladybug, Paris would be doomed.”

“And that’s why they’re a team! Ladybug’s and Chat Noir strengths balance each other, and that makes them work as flawlessly as they do now! They’re partners, and they’d be lost without each other.” She took a deep breath and continued, her voice calmer. “I’ve been protected by Chat Noir too once or twice, and he did brilliantly on his own. I would bet my life on him as I would bet it in Ladybug.”

An ugly smile came to Chloe’s face, her eyes twinkling maliciously. “Oh? Maybe the truth is that you have a crush on him, and that’s what makes you so defensive of him. The stupid cat and the baker’s daughter, a match made in heaven.”

All the fight left from her body as the blonde sneered those words. She realized that, no matter what she said, it wouldn’t change the opinion of someone not willing to listen. She sat down again, shaking her head.

“If you opt to say this instead of using solid arguments, this discussion is useless. Think what you want, Chloe, I’m tired of speaking to you.”

She rose her anti-Chloe walls, ignoring her screeching and turned to her friends, who looked at her with something akin to amazement in their faces. Alya’s face split in a face-splitting grin, patting her shoulder excitedly.

“You go, girl! You’re totally right! I didn’t realise we were taking Chat Noir a bit for granted. Maybe I need to give the black cat more appreciation in the Ladyblog?”

Marinette let herself smile. “I’m sure he’d love that, and Ladybug too.”

She turned to face the boys, but she was struck with how red Adrien’s face was. His mouth was slightly ajar, and there was something in his eyes that made her want to shiver from head to toe, yet there was something somewhat familiar in it, even though she was sure she’d never seen him with such an intense look. She would have combusted in the place otherwise.

However, instead of feeling like she was about to burst, she felt warm inside, like a memory of something that had been there – that still was; he’d been her first love, after all, and that just didn’t go away – but her heart no longer beat like crazy.

So, that was it? Had Chat Noir buried himself too deep in her heart that he’d put Adrien aside? Chat Noir, the mysterious boy that kept on surprising her every time they met, every time he showed a part of himself he didn’t know.

However, as much as she wanted to bury herself in her daydreaming, Adrien still hadn’t said anything, and it was beginning to worry her.

“Adrien, are you okay?”

That seemed to snap him out of his thoughts, and he shook his head, his hair looking a bit wilder because of it.

“Fine! I-I just… I need to go.” He bolted from his seat and left the classroom, ignoring that Mme Bustier had just come in to start the class. The three boys threw similar looks of confusion and concern to the door.

“Is he okay?” Marinette asked Nino, who just shrugged.

Adrien didn’t come back to class. All of them kept sneaking glances to either the door or their phones, but he didn’t answer any of his texts.

When school finished, Marinette made her way home, still worried about the blond boy. Once she arrived to her room, she dropped her bag to the floor and lied on the chaise, feeling mentally drained. She buried her head on the cushion, rubbing the numbness away, then turned her head to the side.

And then’s when she saw them.

She scrambled to her feet and rushed to her desk, where a new bouquet was resting on a vase she’d never seen in her life. She studied the fresh flowers, and her breath caught in her chest when she got the meaning of the flowers.

White carnations stood proudly in full bloom. They meant pure love.

In the sea of white, fuchsia stripes of amaranths gave the bouquet colour and warmth. They meant never-fading feelings.

And then, hidden in the middle of them, a single daffodil rested, once again telling her of his uncertainty.

“You dumb cat, why do you feel uncertain?” She smiled softly at the flowers. “You already have my heart.”

She couldn’t wait to see him again. She couldn’t wait to tell him about her feelings, but days went by and he didn’t come. It wasn’t like they had a schedule or something, but he’d never spent so long without visiting. She met him at patrols and when they fought random Akumas, but _Ladybug_ couldn’t ask him why he wasn’t visiting Marinette, now could she?

She woke up the morning of the 24th of December with an idea. She told Tikki about it, who thought it was brilliant, and both of them went out to buy what she needed for it. It was a short trip, and that left her with way too much time to overthink what she was planning to do.

Was it really a good idea? What if Chat hadn’t meant to leave those messages in his flowers, and it all was a crazy coincidence? She was going to make a fool of herself, wasn’t she?

Tikki managed to calm her down a bit and make her stick to the plan. After having dinner with her parents, she gathered everything she needed for her plan. She let her hair loose, tying his ribbon in a bow on the top of her head, and she threw a heavy blanket on herself. She stepped out to the terrace, her eyes trained on the skyline of Paris with avid eyes, trying to spot the dark-clad figure running on the rooftops.

And there he was.

She felt her heart pounding wildly at the sight of him, relief filling her instantly. He’d come!

She adjusted the blanket around herself and waited until he landed in front of her. His face wore his usual grin, but there was something off about him. He looked… nervous?

“Merry Christmas, Marinette!” he said chirpily, bowing dramatically. She found herself chuckling at the sight of it. She’d really missed him.

“Merry Christmas, Chat Noir. I was wondering if you were going to show up.”

He flinched slightly. “Uh, I just-”

She shook her head at his discomfort with a fond smile. “I’m only teasing, _Chaton._ Actually…” she fidgeted on her feet slightly and oh, god, she could feel her face heating up. “I-I’ve got a present for you.”

His eyes widened. “Marinette, you didn’t need to give me anything! You didn’t even know if I was coming.”

“Shut up. You promised you’d come, and here you are. I just wanted to make you a gift – don’t think I didn’t notice you’ve kept your left hand hidden all this time.”

He chuckled, and brought his hand out of its hiding, showing that, indeed, he’d brought a present with himself. He placed it on the table, and then turned around, looking at her expectantly. She bit her lip in hesitation, but nodded to herself – she had to do it.

Making sure the blanket wouldn’t fall from her shoulders, she took out a pink rose and gave it to him. He placed his clawed fingers around its stem, holding it carefully, and he turned it a bit, looking at the flower with curiosity. Finally, his eyes widened a bit, and she knew he’d finally caught up with its meaning.

_I admire you and appreciate all you’ve done for me._

Then, she brought out a jonquil, its white petals shining subtly under the moonlight. She heard him take a sharp intake of breath before he accepted it with trembling fingers.

_I return your feelings._

Then, finally, she took out a yellow tulip, and her eyes didn’t waver from his face this time. She could see the awe radiating from his cat-like eyes, which went from the flower, to her face, to the flower again. He shuddered, but instead of picking the flower he stepped closer, cupping her face with a hand. she closed her eyes, leaning on the touch.

“Say it out loud, please,” he mumbled with hoarse voice.

“I love you.”

He shuddered from head to toe, and his eyes looked misty all of the sudden. He placed the flowers on the table beside the present, and cupped her face with his both hands. Marinette moved closer, and the movement made the blanket fall to the floor. She didn’t feel the cold anyway.

“I love you too,” he said, voice thick with emotion.

“I know. You’ve told me with your flowers.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips with hers in invitation. She closed the gap, and their lips met fully for the second time, but that kiss conveyed their love for each other, not only the need to save a partner. Her hand travelled to his hair, tangling her fingers with his surprisingly soft hair, and he groaned in response. His arms embraced her waist, tugging her closer until there was no air between them, until their breaths mingled, until their hearts beat into each other’s chests.

They both slowed down the kiss until their lips were brushing again, calmness filling them. Neither of them felt willing to move.

Chat was the one who drew back first, and his expression was so earnest and warm that made her heart race wildly again. His eyes trained on her face, as if he was trying to memorise the moment. Then, as his eyes reached her hair, she could see the beginning of a grin shaping his lips.

“So… you were my present all along. You’re very good at picking gifts, Princess.” He tugged at her bow teasingly, careful not to undo it. Her face became fifty shades of red, and she squawked before freeing herself from his embrace.

“I can’t believe you’re making fun of me!”

Chat chortled and stepped closer to her again, determined not to let her escape this time. “I’m not! ayour present was perfect! Best present of the world. I love it.”

His grin turned in a smirk when he saw her so bothered because of him, and he could feel the heat of her flaming cheeks against his fingertips.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Can you blame me?”

Her face softened. “I guess not. Do you want to come in? I have hot chocolate and cookies. How does that sound?”

“Honestly? It sounds _pawsome._ ”

Marinette let the pun slide – she was feeling way too happy to groan, anyway – and opened the hatch to her room, throwing the blanket inside before jumping to her bed. Chat followed soon, bringing the flowers and the present with him.

She brought up two mugs of chocolate and a plate filled of cookies, and they talked, and laughed and kissed until they both fell asleep in a warm embrace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People kept on asking for a continuation of this, so there you have it. (what do you mean I kept on going because I’m trash?) but of course it got out of hand again. I have no chill whatsoever.  
> And lol, didn’t it start angsty?

If there was something Theodore Collete loved in his life, that was flowers. Being raised by the two owners of a little flower shop, and spending most of his waking hours tending the flowers often did that to you. His father did the tedious work, cleaning the dry leaves, changing the soil of the pots and taking care of the orders, while his mother focused more in the flower arrangement. And boy, wasn’t she good at it.

His mother had a touch with flowers that he would never dream to imitate in his professional life. Every bouquet she made seemed to make the flowers shine with life, as if they were immortal all along, and the beautiful arrangements of vibrant colours made up for the perfect gift.

There was, however, something most customers didn’t know about his mother’s bouquets, and that was that the flowers could talk for them. For people that wasn’t completely sure what to gift, she used to ask multiple questions about what they wanted to express with it, but they always answered with really vague descriptions of feelings, or with situations he thought they had no relation to each other.

However, that didn’t seem to deter her, as once they finished their description, she always thanked her customers and flew around the room, picking up what seemed random flowers, but that, together, they managed to match perfectly. It always met the customer’s liking, and they always left with a delicate arrangement and big smiles on their faces.

He often asked his mother how could she know what their customers wanted, although even they didn’t know it. She would always tap her lips with a finger, a secretive smile curling up her lips before answering:

“Easy, Theo, because my flowers knew how to express those feelings for them.”

He didn’t understand it for a long time. He kept on working at the flower shop, first after school, then, when he finished his obligatory education, permanently. He helped his father with the flower shipments, taking care that the flowers didn’t suffer from the rough trip, and used his knowledge of accountancy to take care of the shop’s stocktaking.

But that wasn’t what he wanted to do in the future, oh no. What he sought to do was help his mother with the arrangements, and learn about how he could make the flowers talk for him. His mother just smiled every time he begged her to let him learn her secret, patting his cheek affectionately. She used to say she would tell him when he was prepared, when she considered he loved the flowers enough to learn their secrets.

However, that moment never came.

When he was only 20 years old, his mother died in a car accident. The doctors said her death had been quick and painless, but that didn’t help soothe the two broken hearts that were left behind, beating unevenly after the news, and for many more years to come.

It was raining at the funeral, looking almost like even the skies cried for the loss. Thousands of flowers decorated her niche, but they looked gloomy, dull, out of those vibrant colours that his mother managed to bring out from them. Then, right at that instant, Theo realised that the flowers would never look the same, without his mother nurturing hands to take care of them.

In the reading of his mother’s will, he was surprised to find she had left a book specifically for him. Its dark leather cover was really worn out, smoothed over the years, and the golden letters that once wrote the title were so timeworn that were completely illegible. The pages were smoothed over the years, with colourful stickers sticking out of it, clearly a new addition to the ancient book.

He opened it carefully, making sure he didn’t ruin the fragile-looking pages, and looked at the first page of the book. His mother’s smooth calligraphy greeted him, some spare words written at the lower edge of the page.

‘Theo, this will help you love flowers as much as I do,’ was all that it read.

He eyed the next pages, and was greeted with images of thousands of different flowers, some of them recognisable, as they had them on stock at the shop, but most of them were species he had never seen in his life. He was astounded at the amount of shapes and colours there were, and how they changed across the world.

He read the footer of one picture, and frowned it confusion at the contents of it. He checked the next one, and checked that, in fact, his eyes weren’t lying to him. On the footer of the pictures, after the description of each flower, there was a detailed description of their symbolism across countries and centuries. In some of them, her mother had stuck a post-it, giving some clarifications, or explaining how they should be treated in a flower arrangement so they look better.

He closed the book with a shuddering breath, and pressed his forehead against the soft surface of the book, letting the inconsolable tears to slip from his eyes yet again. He felt so distraught, but _so_ honoured at the same time. His mother had finally deemed him worthy of her secrets, making sure her knowledge remained, even though she was no longer in there by their side. It filled a bit the vortex of crippling loneliness she had left when she passed away.

Years went by and he kept on working at the store with his father, opening when the soft light of dawn tinted the almost empty streets of Paris, and closing when dusk fell. In the evenings, he spent his time learning everything he could from the book his mother had left him. He practiced alone at home, hiding from his father’s eyes, who still cried whenever he saw flower arrangements.

After some years, he started doing bouquets at the shop, just as his mother did. People began praising him for his work, saying they were as beautiful as his mother’s. Theo disagreed, as they weren’t even half as good as hers were, but accepted the compliments all the same.

He met his wife at the flower shop. She came to pick up some flowers for her grandmother, which was at the hospital for a broken hip, but she wasn’t sure what to pick for her. So he just did what his mother had taught him, and he arranged a little bouquet for her. She had liked it so much that she kept coming back to the shop, always buying different flowers, and asking what they meant.

When she picked the red carnation, he told her what he was dying to tell her since the first time she stepped inside the shop, what his tattered heart thrived to say every time the light hit her hair just _so,_ or when she picked up the flowers so delicately, treating them as if they were little treasures. Once its meaning sipped through his lips, she looked at him wide eyed, then at the flower, and the prettiest of smiles curled her lips. Then, she reached for him and placed the flower in his ear, the soft petals curling around his wild locks.

“This time, the flower’s for you. It suits you, Theo,” she said, with a bright smile in her face, and he could feel his heart bursting through his chest as he didn’t remember doing it in such a long time.

Since that day, he courted her properly, and they married a year and a half later. She began working at the flower shop with them, taking care of the extra bouquets when he was too busy arranging other ones. They had a child, but, although he liked the flowers, he didn’t feel that crippling passion he once felt at his age, but that was okay.

His father ended up retiring, and moved to a town near Paris; finally managing to buy the little house he and his mother had always wanted to have. His wife still worked with him, but she took some free afternoons, as she offered to take care of his father and make him some company. It wasn’t really much of a problem, as their workflow wasn’t much these days.

So in the end, he spent alone half of the afternoons at the flower shop, tending his flowers and trying to make them look as if they were just cut. Most of the customers he got were recurrent, that came by just to have a chat and get some pretty flowers for their table centre, but he didn’t get many special requests nowadays.

That was until that blond boy came to his shop to the first time. He looked to be fifteen, sixteen tops, and he held himself with an ease that only came with practice. His eyes, however, betrayed what he was feeling at the moment, and they kept darting around, looking at the flowers with a blank look, not very sure what to pick. His left hand kept on reaching for the ring he had in his annular finger, twisting it unconsciously in discomfort.

“Can I help you?” he asked him, watching as the boy startled at being addressed. He rubbed the back of his neck – another nervous tick, he was sure of it – and smiled at him.

“Oh, yes, thank you. I am a bit lost at the moment,” he explained, but Theo had already noticed it.

“Are you making a gift? Did you have something in mind?”

“… No, actually.” He rubbed the back of his head again, this time showing his hesitance in his expression. “I just- I wanted to give someone a token of appreciation, but I didn’t know what to get her. I didn’t even know I was getting any flowers until I found myself in here.”

Oh. Now he got it. It had been so long since he got a customer that didn’t know what he wanted. He was filled yet again with that feeling of thrill he always got in times like these, where he had to show his customers what was exactly what their hearts sought to express. Was that what his mother felt so many years ago?

He threw the boy his most calming smile, trying to placate his distress. “It’s okay, boy, I can help you with that. What are you trying to express with the gift?”

“It’s… it’s complicated to put into words.”

“Don’t worry about it; try to explain yourself as best as you can, and I’ll make sure you express that with your flowers.”

That picked the boy’s curiosity. “How so?”

Theo patted his lips, just as his mother did whenever he asked her that question. “Flowers hold meaning, didn’t you know it? They know how to show what your heart struggles to put into words.”

“Is this true?” The boy’s eyes shined with that statement, something akin to hope brightening up his features.

“Yes, of course. Now please, tell me, what do you want to tell her?”

He crossed his arms, deep in thought. “Um… I’m glad I could protect you?” He frowned. “No, that’s not quite right. You see, we’ve been friends for some time, and I didn’t know her very much, just that she was cute and kind of quiet. But yesterday, I saw this new part of her, so clever and cheeky, that took me off guard. I mean, I always knew she was clever, but it was… it was different. I like it.” He stopped then. “Am I rambling too much?”

“No, keep going. I’m about to come up with something, but I need you to finish what you want to say.”

“Really?” The boy looked a bit hesitant, but nodded all the same. “I wanted to tell her that, even though she has returned being quiet around me, that I liked that part of her too? I also wanted to thank her because she put his trust in me to protect her, and that I would be by her side whenever she needs it…” his voice died as the blush in his cheeks blossomed like fresh roses. “I-it’s silly.”

“No, it’s not. Those are your feelings, don’t discard them so lightly. They’re important because you’re feeling them, and that alone is reason enough for wanting to express them.” He stopped, and he let a smile creep past his scolding frown. “In fact, I know exactly what you’re looking for.”

He darted around the room with an energy unusual in a fifty-odd man, picking up some flowers along the way, while he kept asking questions to the boy.

“Do you know which her favourite colour is?”

The boy was startled from his thoughts. “Um, pink, I think. Although I think red would suit her very well.”

He nodded absentmindedly and kept on going, grabbing the best-looking flowers he could find. Then, he brought them to his workplace, beckoning the boy closer. He picked up the most petite flowers, showing them at him while arranging them together.

“Those are white Heathers. These flowers have a story worth of a fairy-tale. It was thought that the white heathers only grew where fairies lived, and that it granted protection to whoever had them. Because of that belief, early in history, soldiers used to wear them as a protection amulet. It will show your friend your will to protect her.”

Theo kept on going, minding the flowers with utmost respect, careful not to tarnish their delicate petals. The boy had his eyes trained to the flowers, not even trying to conceal his amazement. It brought back some memories of when he had been the boy at the other side of the table, even though his mother had been much more reserved with her explanations, wanting to keep all the magic secret.

Once he had half of the Heathers together, he picked the other flowers and showed them to him again. “And these ones are Hyacinths. You have to be careful with these, as they hold multiple meanings, all of them so different between each other. These ones, in pale pink, mean loveliness and playfulness.”

He finished arranging the flowers together in a small bouquet, covering their stems with a soft pink covering, and tying them together with a red ribbon. He showed the final product to the boy, who was practically jumping in his place.

“Here it is. How do you like it?”

“I love it!”

He reached for the bouquet, which the florist handed him, and brought it carefully to him, a look of wonder crossing his face. He took out his wallet absentmindedly, not casting his eyes away from the flowers, and paid for them.

“I hope she enjoys the flowers, boy.”

That made him look up from them, and the brightest of smiles adorned his face. “With flowers as pretty as these, I’m sure she will. Thank you so much for them, and for teaching me so many interesting things about their meaning.”

He headed to the door, and pushed the door with his back to protect the flowers. Theo pushed the door for him and kept it open, the boy nodding with gratitude.

“Thank you so much again.”

Theo waved his hand. “It’s my job, boy. Make sure to come back, okay? Then you can tell me if she liked or not the flowers.”

He nodded again. “I will.”

And he went down the street, the pale pink and white petals glistening with the light of the setting sun.

* * *

The second time he saw him, he was already holding some flowers in his hands.

It had been a quiet afternoon, his wife had just left to pay a visit to his father again, and Theo had used the opportunity to change the soil of his pots. It was a mindless job that he didn’t enjoy much, as his passion was creating beauty with the blossoms, but he knew it was important if he wanted his plants living healthy.

Once he finished, he took out his thick gloves and cleaned his hands from stray dirt with a cloth lying nearby. He made his way to the front desk, and was surprised to find the boy in there, looking pensive at the flowers in front of him, and rolling slightly the stem of a pink carnation in his fingertips. He hadn’t even heard the door opening! Maybe he was getting old.

“Good afternoon, boy. I’m glad to see you again.”

He raised his head, and regarded the man with a smile. “Oh, hello. I hope I’m not getting in the way of your work.”

“Nonsense. Today is a calm day – I was looking for something to do.” He dropped the cloth on the counter. “What brings you here today, boy?”

He fidgeted on his feet slightly. “I wanted to ask for another customized bouquet, if it’s okay.”

“Yes, of course. Any ideas in mind?”

“Well, I did some research before coming in here, and I was amazed at how many different meanings flowers had. I found that pink carnations mean gratitude, what I wanted to tell, but still…”

“You feel it’s not enough?”

He nodded. “Exactly. But, even though I kept on looking for information, I didn’t come up with a way to express it fully.”

“Understandable. The internet is full of wrong symbolism and uncomplete information. It’d better to check official publications or even books from the library.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I’m sure you will get the hang of it in no time. But now let’s focus on the bouquet. What did you want to express with it? You can tell me everything, and I’ll try to make up a bouquet for you.”

“Okay. This time is actually pretty short. I just want to say ‘thank you, pri-’”

The boy stopped himself on his tracks, and suddenly, a bright blush erupted in his cheeks. His eyes were widened, as if he had just caught up on what he tried to say, and that made him shy all of the sudden. Huh, curious.

“Pri?” he asked and raised an eyebrow, trying not to snort at the bothered expression the boy had at this instant.

“P-princess.”

“Princess…”

He waved his hands agitated. “I-it’s a nickname!”

“I see. Is she the girl you gave the flowers last time?”

His blush deepened. Oh, it was!

Now he had a better picture of what was going on with them. For what he’d said the last time he’d been in there, the boy was discovering a total new side of that ‘princess’, and that had piqued up his curiosity. Maybe she had let him in more, maybe he’d discovered she was even more fascinating than he though, but those feelings resurfacing within him, feelings that couldn’t be named yet, were enough to make him want to buy more flowers for her.

This kind of things were what made him love his job so much.

“Son,” he called for him, and he blinked up, slightly startled, “what’s your name?”

“Adrien, _monsieur_.”

“So, Adrien, what made you give her that nickname?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh, I always thought it matched her. Marinette’s a really good leader, and she isn’t afraid to stand up for anyone who needs it. She’s also really talented and intelligent, and when she’s concentrating really much she scrunches her nose and his tongue sticks out of her mouth, and it’s so adorable… She is adorable.”

Theo left the counter and looked around at the flowers, trying to spot the flowers he was looking for. “So, this Marinette is your princess, right? Is she cute?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately. Then, when he caught up on what he’d just ranted to the man, he blushed again. “I-I mean-!”

He chuckled. “It’s okay, son. I also thought my wife was cute when I began to know her.”

“That- that’s not what I meant! It’s not like that.”

“Yes, of course,” he dismissed the boy, picking up some flowers that would add that dash of meaning the boy was looking for.

Once he retrieved all the flowers he needed, he returned to the counter and began arranging the flowers. Adrien leaned closer, looking at the flowers with curiosity burning in his gaze. He let him get as close as he wanted, used to those antics after raising his son, and showed him the final result.

“I love it. It’s so beautiful, _monsieur_.”

“Call me Theo, son. _Monsieur_ makes me feel so old.”

“Theo it is. What are these flowers?” he asked, pointing at the bright red flowers.

“They are Amaryllis. They stand for strong, self-confident and very beautiful woman. It’s also translated into splendid beauty. Fit for a princess, right?”

They also symbolized passionate love in the antique days, but he wasn’t about to spill the beans of something just starting brewing inside of him. He didn’t want to scare the poor boy so soon. There would be time for teasing later.

“It fits perfectly!” the boy beamed with excitement.

After paying, the boy left again, cradling the bouquet with care. He stared at his back until he was out of sight, a smile of contentment in his face. He hoped he would hear more of him soon.

* * *

The fourth time they met, he was talking to his wife about him.

The boy had already become a regular, and his visits, despite being spare, were awaited with anticipation. He had talked so much at home about him, about his interest of learning the meaning of flowers, and his quick advances, that his wife was dying to get to meet him. She would often curse at her bad luck when she kept on missing the boy when he visited.

She also joked of offering him a job at the flower shop, train him and let him inherit the shop once they retired. He couldn’t say he hadn’t thought about it for a while, but after seeing his face plastered in a clothing advertisement one day (and after some research on the internet helped by his son), he was reluctant about asking. The boy had his future on the fashion industry laid at him.

So when on one afternoon they had some free time, his wife nagged him to tell him more about Adrien, the boy that still hadn’t met but was close to adopting. He humoured her, retelling their last meeting at the flower shop, when it had been him who had chosen all the flowers for the first time, and his wife began gushing again about how cute he was, when the door opened.

Adrien stepped in, lost in thought. He let the door close behind him, the sound of the city behind stopping with a soft thump. He didn’t say anything, and Theo doubted he had noticed the two adults staring back at him.

“Good afternoon, Adrien.”

He looked up, startled, and Theo was surprised at the look of vulnerability that crossed his face at this instant. What had happened, exactly?

“G-good afternoon, Theo, um…” he stared at his wife, lost. Meanwhile, she was trying with all her might (and she wasn’t succeeding) to keep her giggles at bay. He threw her a questioning glance, but she waved her hand, ignoring it.

She stepped forward and raised her hand for a handshake. “I’m Michelle Collete, Theo’s wife.” Adrien clasped his hand with hers and shook it. “It’s nice to meet you, Adrien; my husband has talked a lot about you.”

“He has?” he asked in confusion.

“Well, yes! It has been so long since we got someone as enthusiastic as you with the flowers.”

Theo nodded along. “It’s true. It’s always nice when you come visit. That reminds me, what brings you here today?”

He paused, that look of vulnerability returned to his face with a dash of something he couldn’t quite place. “I… I need to prepare a bouquet.”

“Of course. Do you need my help or you prefer to do it on your own?”

He blushed a vibrant red then, the vulnerability completely leaving his expression. Theo felt himself breath in relief. That was more like it.

“I-I’ll do it!”

He darted around the room, looking pensive at the flowers in a dance that reminded Theo of his own, and he chuckled at the boy’s enthusiasm. His wife leaned on the counter beside him, a knowing smile in her face, and he regarded her with confusion. She giggled against her hand.

“You haven’t noticed?” she whispered conspiratorially, trying to avoid to be heard by Adrien.

“What should I have noticed? The boy’s acting strange, but I can’t make heads or tails of his behaviour.”

Her eyes widened imperceptivity at that. “Of course you don’t. You were the one who…”

“What?”

She nodded at the boy, who had stopped in front of the gardenias, regarding them with a pensive look before picking some of them. Her lips curved up until she beamed against her hand once she noticed where he was going next.

“It’s in everything he’s doing right now. He’s behaving the same way you did when you gave me that red carnation and told me what it meant.”

His eyes widened and looked at the boy again, who had stopped in front of the Chrysanthemums, hesitation ingrained in his movement. “Do you think he…?”

“Yes, I do. At least I hope so.” She nodded ahead. “He’s picking up the yellow ones.”

Both adults watched him as he came back with the flowers. He handed them at Theo, feeling a bit self-conscious, judging by the way his shoulders were scrunched up. He didn’t blame him, when his wife was looking back at him without even trying to conceal her mirth.

“Are those all the flowers you want, boy?”

“I-I think so.”

Michelle crossed her arms on the counter and eyed at him conspiratorially while Theo did the arrangement. “Nice choice of flowers, Adrien.”

The boy blushed, knowing fully that she understood the meaning behind them. “Thanks, ma’am.”

She waved her hand in a playful scoff. “Please, call me Michelle. But going back to the main point, your bouquet is full of meaning. You’re much more eloquent with your emotions than my husband, who just handed me a red carnation and told me that he loved me.”

“You said it was romantic!” he protested beside her, already lacing the flowers with a neat lace.

“Of course it was romantic, honey. But he’s getting Marinette a bouquet, a _bouquet_! With lots of flowers. And you know how much we like flowers.”

Adrien spluttered at that, eyes wide. “Y-you know about Marinette too?”

“Of course, honey. I already told you Theo had talked about you, _non_?” She bopped him in the nose, and he got a bit cross-eyed. “That includes your relationship with your princess. Cute nickname, by the way.”

The boy seemed about to go into a system meltdown by the woman’s teasing. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out of it. Michelle’s reaction was just to giggle at him, and Theo felt kind of bad for the poor boy. He had been object of his wife’s teasing way too many times.

“Now, tell me,” she continued, ignoring that Adrien was already struggling to keep a straight face, “how is Marinette? My husband has already told me some things about her, but I want to know what you think of her.”

“Well, Marinette…” he trailed on, and his eyes brightened up, full of affection. “Marinette’s amazing. She’s very creative and sweet, but she wouldn’t doubt putting you in your place if you were doing something wrong. She always smells like vanilla, because her parents work at a bakery, but it just suits her really well.

She’s also very caring, and worries about everyone’s wellbeing. She even convinced a photograph to stay some more hours for free so one of our classmates could appear in our class picture.” He chuckled. “I thought she was very shy at first, but she can be very witty, and her teasing comebacks are the best. She’s the most fascinating person I’ve ever met in my life.”

She hummed. “She seems fascinating indeed. I would love to meet her someday.”

“Oh, she would love to come here. I’m sure she would get amazing ideas for her designs with the amount of beautiful flowers in here.”

“Designs?”

“Oh, she wants to be a fashion designer in the future, and she’s really good at it. She even won a competition held by Gabriel Agreste himself.”

Michelle clapped her hands in enthusiasm. “Now I want to meet her more! Don’t you agree, Theo?”

“Yes, I do. She must be something special if she managed to capture your heart like this. Maybe you could bring her with you in your next visit?” Theo said as he finished lacing the flowers

“Y-yeah, maybe next time.”

Adrien accepted the flowers, smelled them, as usual, and went to the door. Michelle opened the door for him and waved him goodbye, watching with fondness the eager steps of the boy going away. She stayed at the door, even though she couldn’t see him anymore.

“Michelle, please, close the door. The shop is starting to smell like fumes.”

After rolling her eyes, she closed the door behind her and walked to the counter with determination. She slammed her hands down, startling Theo, who was putting away the remains of the flowers he had just cut. He looked back at her questioningly, until she spoke.

“I’m adopting this boy, Theodore, and you’re not stopping me.”

He snorted. “How about you ask his parents first?”

“I don’t care about his parents, they will have to give in at my petition. He will be my son.”

And they spent the whole afternoon arguing about why adopting a boy who clearly had a family in the first place was a bad idea.

* * *

Adrien walked down the streets silent. No one but the black creature hidden inside the inside pocket of his shirt accompanied him. Before turning the corner, he stopped, his destination in view. The kwami popped out of his hiding, making sure he was out of sight before speaking to his wielder.

“You’re going to buy some more flowers for her, right?”

“I am.”

He looked at the flower shop then, the vibrant colours of their flowers visible through the windows. “I wouldn’t have objected if you had transformed to get in here faster this time around. I like princess. She cares a lot about you.”

He sighed, and a small smile curved his lips. “She does, doesn’t she?”

He nodded and muttered to himself, “Tikki chose well.”

“Tikki? What’s that?”

“Nothing. Now let’s go. I’m feeling hungry.”

He rolled his eyes. “You always feel hungry, Plagg.”

“Weren’t you buying flowers for your princess?”

Adrien shook his head in amused resignation as Plagg hid once again inside his inside pocket. Once he made sure he was out of sight, he stepped forward, heading to the shop. As soon as the door opened, the fragrance of hundreds of flowers hit him, and he couldn’t help to breath in.

The owner of the shop put down a box full of plants on top of the counter, and cleaned his hands with a spare cloth.

“Good morning, Adrien. You’re early today too.”

“Good morning, Theo. I hope I am not getting in the way of you opening the shop.”

“Nonsense. You’ve never been a bother. Do you need help with the flowers?”

“No, don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.”

Theo nodded. “Call me when you’re done.”

The florist returned at the back, and Adrien could hear him moving things around, grunting when they were a tad too heavy. He swallowed down his urge to help him, knowing fully well what would be the answer of the other man, and turned to the flowers, trying to spot the flowers he was looking for.

The full pink blooms were easy to spot, as he already knew where they were. He picked the most beautiful ones and took them with him. Then, he spotted the big purple florets nearby, picking just one of them. And, in the end, he found the Larkspurs, their long florets leaning slightly forward.

He brought all of the flowers to the counter, and placed them gently on the surface, making sure the flowers didn’t get squished. Just as he was about to call Theo, the man came out from the back room, drying his forehead with a cloth. He made his way to the counter and looked down at the flowers, frowning as he did so.

“Pink carnations, Larkspur and Hydrangeas? Kid, is something wrong?” he asked, worry tinting his voice.

He just looked at the flowers and smiled wistfully, memories of the night before filling his mind. “Not anymore.”

The man began arranging the flowers, not asking anymore questions, and his shoulders relaxed a little bit, the tension he didn’t know he was feeling disappearing altogether. Even though Marinette had helped a big deal the night before, the pain hadn’t gone away fully. But he just needed a bit of time to put his guards up again, and his absence wouldn’t hurt as much.

Before Theo could tie the flowers together, though, Adrien stopped him. He rummaged in his pockets and took out a pink silk ribbon, neatly folded.

“Do you think you could tie it all up with this ribbon?”

“Of course.”

He handed him the ribbon and the florist tied up the flowers, making a small bow. He presented the bouquet to Adrien once it was done, and he nodded with gratitude, picking it up. He opened the door, but stopped before going out.

“Thank you so much again for what you do, Theo. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it; it’s my pleasure. I hope things get better soon, and remember you’re always welcomed in here, whether to buy some flowers or just for chatting with this old man.”

He left the shop in good spirits, ready to make a quick stop and going back home before Nathalie noticed his absence. He hid in an alleyway, out of sight, and looked inside his shirt, the two green round eyes of his kwami staring back at him.

“You’re still up for that ride?”

“Just say the words, kid.”

“Plagg, claws out!”

Green light engulfed him as Adrien disappeared, Chat Noir appearing in his place. He checked the bouquet, sighing in relief when they looked fine. He grabbed his baton and extended it, pole-vaulting himself to the roofs. He ran on the rooftops of Paris, making sure he stayed out of sight and the flowers were secure in his arms.

Once he caught a glimpse of the already familiar rooftop of his princess, he slowed down, letting the inertia of his fast pace carry him instead. He carefully jumped down, and landed softly on the ball of his feet, making sure he didn’t make a sound. He placed the flowers on the table, wondering what he should do.

The safest choice would be leaving the flowers on the table, as he had always done, but she wouldn’t see them until that afternoon, and that wouldn’t do. He wanted to tell her now, and he wasn’t sure he could survive to be so near her in class, knowing that she still hadn’t found the bouquet, totally oblivious at what he wanted to tell her.

He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t blurt it out to her face, and that would be very bad (despite what one part of his selfish mind argued) because he had to protect his secret identity at all costs.

So he had to make her see them before she left to school. But how? He wouldn’t dare go inside her room without permission, much less with her inside. That would be totally inappropriate.

But what if he didn’t go in, but the bouquet did? He could reach just fine from the hatch to her bed, so he could leave them there, right? Then, he would leave the flowers in plain sight, _and_ he wouldn’t go in. It was a perfect plan!

He reached to the hatch, and was surprised to find it already open. He frowned in concern. He should tell Marinette to close the hatch leading to her room later. It was really unsafe. Who knew what weirdoes could use it to sneak in?

(A voice that sounded distinctly like Plagg being a sarcastic little thing asked if he was one of those weirdoes. He chose to ignore it.)

So he opened the hatch fully and leaned in a bit, trying to spot the best place to drop the flowers. What he didn’t take into account was the fact that Marinette would be sleeping just centimetres away from him.

The soft sunrays were reflected in her dark hair, making it shine with a bluish hue. Her cheeks were rosy, and her mouth was curved in a tiny smile, as if she was having the best dream of her life. She was curled inside her covers, becoming a little bundle of light pink, and a big cat cushion was draped around her, protecting. A cushion he noted she was hugging tightly.

He almost fell through the hole of the hatch.

Trying to regain his composure (and failing), and reached for the bouquet. Before thinking it for a while, he placed it in front of her, so it was the first thing she saw in the morning, and closed the hatch once he got out. He leaned on the banister, trying to catch his breath and to calm his erratic heart before it got out of his chest (he also could hear Plagg’s incessant snickering once he dropped his transformation).

Grabbing his baton from behind, he casted a glance to the hatch leading to his princess room once again, smiling softly to himself. He couldn’t wait to see her in class.

* * *

Adrien Agreste knew quite a lot about how to endure harsh words and criticism. He was a famous model working for his father line, so he was used to depreciative words thrown at his direction from jealous models that though he was just modelling because of who his father was, or people who didn’t appreciate his father altogether.

He was already used to it, and he tended to ignore them, as he knew he was doing a good job. His father sells in teenage clothing had raised since he started modelling for him, and the man had even praised him from it, a novelty coming from the seemingly cold and stoic man.

But there were times when his guards were a bit down, and harsh words reminded him of his feeling of inadequacy. Despite Plagg’s constant (although sometimes a bit weird) reassurance, there were a lot of things he was unsure about. He was unsure of being a good friend, because he often didn’t know how to help Nino when he was feeling down. He was unsure of being a good son, as he couldn’t understand how, despite making his best efforts, his father kept on ignoring him.

And he was unsure of making a good job being Chat Noir, too. Despite what Plagg and Ladybug herself constantly said, there was still this little pang of doubt inside of him. He had been thrown away by an Akuma way too many times, fallen to the control of their powers just as many times, and been basically a total nuisance for his Lady.

He tried to convince himself he was doing a good job, and he actually believed it when he saw the face of people looking at his superhero persona in awe, but it was criticism he endured the worst. And hearing his worst fears out loud, coming from no other but his childhood friend’s mouth stung a lot.

Every word she said felt like punches in his stomach. He was trying his best not to wince on his seat, but he could feel his shoulder stiffening. He could hear Nino huffing beside him, and Alya muttering under her breath about ‘bitchy blondes’, and the uncomfortable aura that had fallen on their class.

He wanted to get away from there. He wanted to put as much space as he could from those words, to try to forget again how much he messed up on suit, to remember he was doing a good job. But Chloe kept on going, and it seemed there was no stopping to her harsh words.

That’s until he heard a loud clattering sound behind him.

He turned around to look at Marinette, just as half of the class did. She had her fists closed tight, and his breath caught at the look of pure fury marring her face. He had never seen her so angry in all the time he’d known her, and he found himself unable to look away.

“What do you want,  _Marinette Dupain-Cheng?_ ” Chloe said with disdain, and he could see how Marinette’s eyebrow ticked at that.

“You take that back,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Take  _what_  back? You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

“What you said about Chat Noir.”

He felt his heart stop, just to reboot itself and beat a million palpitations per minute. All this, all the fury she felt at the moment, was all on his behalf? His breath hitched at the mere notion of it, and Nino looked at him questioningly, before turning his eyes to the fight between the two girls.

As praises came out of Marinette’s mouth, he could feel his skin warmer and warmer. He could feel his insides melt, and he had to try very hard not to smile like a loon – because they were having a really loud argument, and it would look pretty much out of place. Then, Marinette said she thought that Chat Noir was more of a superhero than Ladybug, and he could feel his heart being pierced by dozens of cupid arrows.

However, Chloe didn’t relent, giving – more like shouting – her opinion of how Chat Noir was completely useless, which managed to tick Marinette off, and her voice echoed inside the full class.

“And that’s why they’re a team!”

_“We’re a team, Chaton,” she said, the soft light of the moonlight highlighting the red of her suit._

“They’re partners, and they’d be lost without each other.”

_“We’re partners, and partners have each other’s backs. Don’t you agree, mon minou?” She smiled back at him cheekily before throwing herself to the Akuma._

You know those moments of sudden clarity when all the pieces of the puzzle fit into their rightful place? That tiny epiphany that managed to answer all your questions and brought to the surface a thousand more? Adrien was living something akin to that, followed by a complete system failure.

Because Marinette’s words had been painfully familiar. It was something said out of the eye of the public, up on silent rooftops in the middle of the night, or strong statements in the middle of the battle. They were words said with conviction, reassurance, playfulness, or seriousness, but all of them holding the same meaning – that no matter what anyone thought, Ladybug and Chat Noirs were _partners_ , and they needed each other. And Adrien couldn’t help but see Ladybug on Marinette when she spoke those words.

Everything came crashing down to him as everything started to make sense. Her disappearances, her unbelievably excuses, why he caught her sometimes talking alone, and on top of all of these, her total trust on Chat Noir, even when she had ‘never seen him in person before’. They both shared the responsible vein, the charisma and the creativity, and both were sometimes too stubborn to be good.

Her physical appearance matched too – brilliant blue eyes, dark hair that sometimes glinted in deep blue, and soft freckles scattered on her nose and cheeks. They had the same height, the same built, and Adrien couldn’t believe he hadn’t made the connection before. It was so obvious!

Of course he had fallen for the same girl twice.

He was so out of it that he didn’t even noticed that the argument had finished a while ago – more like Marinette had decided to ignore Chloe’s shrieks once again – because he was so lost in his contemplation of the girl sitting behind him. It was only when those big bluebell eyes were directed at him, full of concern and warmth, that he remembered he had to actually breathe to keep on living.

“Adrien, are you okay?”

Reality came back to him like a punch. He shook his head, trying to put in order his whirling thoughts. Marinette had asked a question, hadn’t she? What had she asked again? If he was okay? Of course he was okay, more than okay, even. He had just discovered that the person he had a crush on was the person he’d been in love with all this time, of course he was fine.

… and he still had to answer, right?

“Fine!” he exclaimed, and winced at his outburst. Way to go, Adrien. “I-I just… I need to go.”

He jumped from his seat and bolted out of the room, ignoring the concerned glances from his teacher, and his classmates calling for him. He had to get out of there. He had to get out of there before he blurted something without thinking and he outed both his Lady and himself. And boy, wouldn’t she skin him alive if he did.

And she would know where to find him, because she actually goes to his class. Because his Princess, the most courageous, witty, creative, beautiful girl he had ever met was his partner, the only person he knew that always would have his back. And _the_ Ladybug, saviour of Paris and the national treasure, had defended him against Chloe with teeth and claws. And she had said she trusted him with her life.

“Ah, here comes the swooning again. Ugh.”

Adrien looked around, making sure there was anyone in sight before he let the kwami out of his hiding. The black creature floated in front of his face, with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. His tail swayed lazily behind him.

Plagg rolled his eyes. “God, you’re making that face again.”

“Which face?” he frowned in confusion.

“The lovey-dovey one. The one you put whenever Ladybug or Princess are mentioned. Well, _is_ mentioned, as they both are the same person.”

That brought a goofy smile to his face. “Yeah, she is. Isn’t it amazing?”

“Took you long enough, to be honest.”

That made his smile drop from his face. “Wait. You knew!?”

“Of course I knew. I am the Kwami of chaos and destruction; of course I can sense my counterpart when she’s nearby.” Then he looked to the side, and scratched his head. “I also may have seen her talking to Tikki once or twice. I swear that for being so secretive of her identity, she can sometimes be really obvious. I don’t get how any of you two haven’t been outed by now.”

“And why haven’t you told me?”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t my place to tell in the first place. This is something between Ladybug and you. Moreover, Tikki and I believed that it was better you didn’t know who you two were when you were starting all this superhero business. For protection, or something like that.”

It made sense. He hadn’t liked it one bit, but he supposed it was fair. But that left him with an important decision ahead of him, a decision that would change everything between them, be it in their civilian lives and on duty.

“I need to tell her. Plagg, let’s go.”

“And where are you going exactly? You can’t bolt into your classroom and shout ‘My Lady, I am Chat Noir, now smooch me’. You still have secret identities to protect.”

Adrien scoffed. “I know that much. I just need to buy some things first.”

“Let me guess… flowers?”

“Exactly.”

He grabbed Plagg from the air and buried him into the inside of his shirt, ignoring the indignant squawk the little god made. He rushed to the florist shop, the flowers he wanted to put in the bouquet already in mind. He didn’t know why, but he felt restless all of the sudden. He needed to get to her. He needed to get to her now.

His visit to the flower shop was quick. Poor Theo almost didn’t have time to wrap up the flowers before Adrien was bolting out of the door. He hid in the nearest alley and transformed (to Plagg’s chagrin), jumping instantly to the rooftops and making his way to Marinette’s home at a fast pace, and not caring that everyone else could see him.

One civilian working at a little antique shop saw him carrying flowers, and gifted him a vase with intricate carvings on its surface, ignoring his every attempt to pay up. Well, he would try to fix that later.

So, carrying the bouquet and the vase, Chat made his way through the rooftops. Once he was nearing his destination, he hid in the shadows, trying to get out of view of curious peers. Once he was sure no one was looking, he leaped to her terrace, landing silently on his soles. He placed the vase on her table and nodded to himself. That would do.

However, before leaping to the void, a big ugly raindrop hit his cheek. He looked up, and frowned at the dark clouds looming over his head. Another drop fell, followed by another one, and Chat looked around frantic, trying to find something to cover the flowers before the rain could damage them.

Coming out empty, he winced. There was just one thing he could do. With his fake ears almost pressing on his skull, he reached for the hatch, finding it once again open. Grabbing the vase with the flowers, he let himself drop inside Marinette’s room, guilt gnawing on him. He quickly left the vase on her table and left the room, closing the hatch behind him.

He breathed in relief. Now that he was done, he could go back to class, where his friends were waiting for him. Where _Marinette_ was waiting for him, with her sweet smile, and round, eager eyes, and those freckles that dotted her rosy cheeks…

His heartbeat sped up, and his cheeks became hot all of the sudden. His hands trembled, and his gut clenched in nervousness at the mere prospect of seeing her again. He was dying to see her, but he didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of her, something he was quite sure it would happen was he to face her today.

… So going to school today was out of question.

But he had to talk to her about it, possibly when they were alone. When could that be, though? Marinette attracted all kinds of people around her (even though she probably didn’t realise that), so he didn’t have a lot of chances as being her alone as Adrien.

Maybe he could meet her as Chat? They would have their privacy that way, and they would have time to talk about it. Then, he remembered the bouquet he had just left in her room, the flowers he had chosen, and his face burned in retaliation. Now Marinette would probably know what he felt about her, and even though the thought was exhilarating, it also left him caving into crippling insecurity and anxiety.

A thought popped up in his mind then. Christmas was pretty near, and he had already bought his partner her present, the necklace with a ladybug pendant. Maybe he could tell her that way, as a starter of sorts? Either way, it was the best he come up with.

On Christmas, he would tell her.

* * *

Theo looked up from his newspaper at the sound of the door opening. It was December 24th in the morning, Christmas eve. He had opened the shop at seven, as he did every other day, not letting the fact of the day being a festivity to deter him, on the contrary.

He had worked many years in his shop, and he knew by heart that days like these were the ones they got more clients. Either it was a late customer trying to fins desperately a gift for a distant relative, couples giving the final touch to their love declarations, or mothers looking for the best centrepiece for their Christmas dinner table.

He was already used to the strange petitions he got in this kind of days, so he wasn’t really surprised to see customers barrelling in.

This customer, however, held something special about her. She had half of her face buried in her light pink scarf, her twin pigtail bobbling at every step she took, and her eyes scanned the shop with an expert look. Then, he saw her eyes glint in determination, and with confident strides, she headed to the tulip section, picking up a yellow one.

She grabbed a pink rose from nearby afterwards, making sure she didn’t hurt herself with its thorns, and she looked around again, her confidence soon melting into a somewhat lost expression.

Theo dropped the newspaper on the counter, the article he was reading long forgotten, and headed towards where the girl was standing.

“Good morning, miss. May I help you?”

She seemed a bit startled at first, probably because she hadn’t seen him coming her way, but once the surprise faded, she nodded in relief.

“I can’t seem to find the jonquils. Could you maybe point me out where they are?”

“Yes, of course. If you follow me.”

He headed towards the other corner of the shop, where he remembered placing the jonquils this morning. He was running out of them, maybe he should place a new order. He should order some cactus too; they were pretty popular among schoolgirls, for some reason.

He threw a side-glance towards the girl, just to see her smiling softly at the flowers around them. She stopped beside a full-blown carnation and leaned forward, smelling the sweet scent coming from it, smiling in delight. When she straightened up to keep going, he saw that the florist was looking back at her fondly, and she squeaked a soft apology.

“No worries, my girl. Any flower lover is good in my book.”

The smile he received in return was stunning, almost blinding. It reminded him a bit of Adrien, actually. Both of them had brilliant smiles, like the sun.

She followed behind Theo once again, and they reached the place where the jonquils were placed.

“Which colour do you want?”

“White, please.”

Theo reached for the most beautiful one, the one with its petals shaped in a perfect star, and handed it to her. She reached for it with hesitant hands, and carried the flower carefully with the other two.

“Do you need any help to spot any more flowers?”

She shook her head. “These are enough, thank you.”

He accompanied her to his working desk, where he started getting the flowers ready, taking away dried leaves and sneaky thorns. It was then when the meaning of the flowers he was holding hit him. they didn’t clash with each other, in fact, they matched perfectly. They could tell a story on their own, and he was almost sure this hadn’t happened by chance.

“An interesting choice of flowers you made there… full of meaning.”

“I know.” She gazed down at the blooms, and her face softened. “I just hope he gets it too. He has been giving me all these bouquets from time to time, and I couldn’t help but catch on their meaning. Maybe he doesn’t know about any of this, but he has given me so many flowers that it’s hard to believe it’s a crazy coincidence. So here’s me, giving him an answer and hoping he actually gets it.”

“I’m sure he will understand, miss. If not with the flowers, then with your words.”

“Thank you.”

Once he finished, she took her wallet out of her purse to pay for the flowers, but Theo just shook his head, stopping her in her tracks.

“The flowers are for free. From a flower lover to a fellow lover.”

“But-!” she made to protest, but he raised a hand.

“I insist.”

After some staring, the girl put her wallet back to her purse reluctantly, and accepted the flowers.

“Thank you again for all your help, _monsieur._ ”

He waved his hand. “Please, call me Theo. ‘ _Monsieur_ ’ just makes me feel older.”

She nodded, chuckling. “Theo it is. Well, I should take my leave now. I need to help my parents at the bakery before Christmas dinner.”

Something about that stirred his memory, and he looked closer at the girl. That had sounded oddly familiar. Every piece of the puzzle fell back to their place slowly – her story about the boy, her knowledge of flower meanings, and the fact that the strong smell of flowers couldn’t quell the sweet scent of vanilla coming from her. Could it really be? Could it be that she…?

Meanwhile, the girl made her way to the door, completely oblivious to Theo’s moment of sudden realisation. She opened the door, the cold breeze of the winter morning seeping in. Suddenly, a red dot flew inside and landed on her flowers. She smiled down at the bug resting on one of the jonquil’s petals. Maybe it may seem weird to see a ladybug at this time of the year, but stranger things had happened to her.

“A ladybug, huh? They say they bring good luck. Maybe I’ll have good look today too.”

She made a step to leave, but Theo stopped her. “Wait! What’s your name, girl?”

She turned at the doorway to look at him. She cradled the flowers to her chest and smiled at him.

“My name is Marinette, pleasure to meet you. I’ll make sure I come back soon.”

And then she stepped out of the shop closing the door behind her. Her pigtails bobbled at every step she took, and Theo could only look flabbergasted at her retreating form. The door at the back opened then, and his wife stepped out of the storage, eyeing in confusion at Theo’s baffled expression.

“Are you alright, _mon chèrie_? I heard the door closing, did we have a customer?”

“Yes. Yes, we did. Does the name Marinette ring any bells to you?”

“Princess!?” she gasped and ran to the windowpanes, trying to spot the girl in the crowd. “What does she look like?”

“Dark hair and really pretty blue eyes. And her smile is as bright as Adrien’s.”

She sighed at the window. “I can’t see her. What did she buy?”

“A pink rose, a white jonquil and a yellow tulip.”

People at the street turned startled to look at the flower shop, as Michelle’s excited squeal could be heard through the thick glass of the shop.

* * *

Years passed by faster than he expected. People began frequenting the shop more than before, some of them recommended by either Adrien or Marinette, but soon, the shop made a name on itself again. Customers didn’t cease to come and go, and its popularity sky-rocketed in no time.

His son came back to the shop, declaring he hadn’t found anything out there he loved more than flowers, so Theo took it in himself to teach him all his secrets, just like his mother had done to him.

His joints started to hurt then, and the bags of soil seemed heavier and heavier by the day, but hopefully, his son, and the new red-haired boy working part-time to pay up for his university, took care of the hard work. His wife tended the flowers, and he focused fully on the arrangements.

The door chimed open one calm evening, letting through a smiling Adrien, followed shortly by a blushing Marinette, who had her hand clasped in his. Theo smiled in contentment – they were clearly in a date.

He could still remember when they had been two shy children, coming to the shop for some help in the matters of the heart, but now look at them. They had grown so much in so little time. Adrien was working on his Physics PhD and he took some random photoshoots to pay up the bills, while Marinette was an apprentice of Adrien’s father, who was teaching her about the Agreste company management.

Once Adrien spotted him behind the counter, he waved animatedly at him, and the couple made their way towards him.

“Good evening, Theo!”

“Good evening, Adrien, Marinette. You two look as good as always.”

“I don’t know about me, but of course Marinette looks good. No, not good, stunning.” He made a step back to show her off, and she narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “Look at the dress she’s wearing; it’s an Agreste, Marinette’s collection.”

“Adrien, stop it.” She hit him playfully in the arm. He grinned saucily at her.

“Never. I’m just stating the truth, my Lady.”

“Didn’t we come here for something, minou?”

“Oh, right.” He turned to Theo, his eyes glinting secretly. “We came to pick up some flowers. Do you have them ready, Theo?”

The other man smiled knowingly at him. “Just finished arranging them. Am I invited?”

Adrien scoffed, as the man reached for the bouquet stashed under the counter. “Of course you are.”

Marinette looked at the exchange between the two men, her confusion growing at every comment they made. There had to be something she was missing somehow. What could it be?

“I’m lost. What are you two talking about?”

Adrien gasped beside her, and turned to look at her. “What do you mean, bugaboo, you don’t know?”

She frowned. “No.”

The blond man hit his forehead softly with a hand. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

He then grabbed the bouquet Theo was handing him, just to give it to Marinette. She looked down at the flowers in confusion, just to gasp in surprise when she identified the flowers tucked in it. She looked up with big eyes, just to see Adrien on one knee, reaching for something in his pocket.

“Marinette, I saw fitting to ask you in here, the place that allowed us to communicate without words, and that brought us together. I have loved you for a long time, and I will for many more years. I can’t phantom a life without you by my side, and I was wondering if-“

“YES!”

Marinette launched herself to his neck, dropping the bouquet of white flowers to the side. Adrien tumbled and landed on his butt, a crying Marinette in his arms. She buried her head in his neck, and her shoulders shook with her giggles and sobs of happiness. He blinked in bewilderment, but once he recovered, he chuckled and wrapped her in his arms.

“You haven’t even let me ask the question.”

She rubbed her face into his neck. “I don’t care. The answer’s still yes.”

“What if I was going to ask if I could eat more cookies at night?”

“That wasn’t the question. The flowers, remember?” She raised her head, and looked at Theo. “And yeah, you’re invited to the wedding too. You can even take care of the flower arrangements, if you’re up to the job.”

“It’d be my pleasure.”

Marinette ended up standing up, helping Adrien get up. He took her hand and slipped the ring in her finger, Marinette looking back at him with a gaze of adoration. When he finished, he kissed her knuckles, his lips brushing the engagement ring now resting on her finger, and both of them grinned to each other.

Adrien scratched the back of his neck, a habit that had lasted all those years. “Well, I guess we shall take our leave. Tell Michelle the big news!”

Theo waved his hand. “Oh, she already knows. She helped me choose the flowers. She’s going to be pretty mad she missed it, though.”

“Oh, the flowers!” Marinette reached down to pick up the bouquet, and winced when she saw some petals falling to the floor. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t fret, child. I’ll take care of it. Now you two lovebirds go to your date already. You have a lot to celebrate.”

She glanced up to Adrien, and her eyes warmed. She clasped her hand in his. “We do, don’t we?”

He squeezed her hand. “Yes, we do.” Then looked up again at Theo. “Well, we’re leaving. I’m sure Marinette will text you with the details of the arrangements soon.”

“And I will be ecstatic to look through them once I get them. Have a nice evening.”

The couple left the shop, Marinette leaning her head on Adrien’s shoulder, and happiness being visible in every inch of their faces. The white bouquet was resting on her arms, the flowers a bit ruffled because of the fall, but still looking beautiful all the same.

Theodore Collete loved flowers with his life, because through them he could enjoy life at its fullest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually was in Paris when I was finishing writing this *saying hello in the airport*.   
> As I was waiting at the queue to go inside the catacombs I was writing the part where Marinette is looking for the jonquil. The funny part was when I turned my head slightly and I saw there were actually some white jonquils in the grass patch beside me.  
> What a funny coincidence, right?  
> (Also Paris is so beautiful and I want to go back already, despite still being at the airport. Hopefully I can go back in May, but I’m not really sure.)


End file.
